


defrosting

by goldtreesilvertree, mothwrites



Series: into the wild abyss [2]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, His Dark Materials Inspired, M/M, daemon manipulation as punishment, fraternising with the enemy, from the girls who brought you fantasy au jacoffel angst, it's more jacoffel angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtreesilvertree/pseuds/goldtreesilvertree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothwrites/pseuds/mothwrites
Summary: Eiffel and his daemon try to out-spy a spy with interesting results. Also; Team Nicepionage, fishing for information, inappropriate commanding officers, Goddard-issued therapy, tempting offers, and being happy for five minutes.





	defrosting

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from 'pondering the voyage', and should probably be read in that order. We scoured Pinterest for accurate representation of the daemons, so if you'd like a handy key, here you go: http://captainlovelxce.tumblr.com/post/163449362903/so-lottiesnotebook-and-i-wrote-a-wolf-359-his

The man they’d pulled out of the pod was almost unrecognisable as the Douglas Eiffel in the Hephaestus’ manifest. He was almost skeletally thin and pale, and barely conscious when they dragged him out of the cryo chamber. He was, however, awake enough to murmur something about a “Cass”.

“Where’s his daemon?” Columba asked in Maxwell’s ear. “Is he - oh God, is he, you know - “

“No,” Cepheus said, sniffing. “She’s in his suit. Freezing.” Without Jacobi or Eiffel’s leave, she started pawing at the stranger and dragged a half-frozen rabbit out from inside his jacket. Her little eyes were closed, and there were crystals of ice in her fur. She hung limply from the fox’s jaws, but Cepheus was unusually gentle with her, carrying her to the medical bay of the Urania as the humans carried Eiffel. She curled up in the corner of the room around the other daemon and murmured to her as she started to wake: “Hush, little one. You’re safe now.”

Jacobi had never heard his usually-acerbic daemon sound so _gentle._ “What on Earth’s gotten into you?”

“She’s _freezing,_ ” Cepheus pointed out unnecessarily. Jacobi shivered a little as he felt an echo of the chill. “Besides, she’s so little!”

“Cassie,” Eiffel murmured, not fully present as Maxwell strapped him into the medical bay bed.

The rabbit squeaked, twitching as she warmed up. She pressed her face into Cepheus’s warm fur, not knowing where she was but knowing Eiffel was nearby.

“Try and get her to talk,” Jacobi advised. “God knows what’s happened here.”

“Her name’s Cassiopeia, right?” Cepheus looked to the humans for confirmation, then turned back to the other daemon. “Cassiopeia? Cassie? You need to stay awake. You’re safe now.”

“For _information,_ Ce.”

Cassie squeaked again, and coughed. “Doug…”

“He’s here, you’re both safe,” Cepheus repeated, “I can take you to see him in just a moment. Can you tell me what happened?”

“We got knocked off course,” Cassiopeia said, trying to regulate her breathing. “No engines. Little food. We were trying to stay in cryo until we reached the Hermes flight path to hail them… Going under every day…” she trailed off, coughing again. Her little body spasmed against Cepheus’s.

“You managed it. This is the Urania. We’re going to take you home.” For a given value of the word ‘home’, anyway.

On the other side of the room, Jacobi propped up Eiffel’s head to look him in his barely-responsive eyes. “Hey, man. You with us?”

“Where am I?” He scrabbled weakly at his clothes, “Where’s Cassie?”

“Whoah, calm down, you’ll hurt yourself. Your daemon’s just over there, warming up. See?” he moved aside to give him a view of Cassiopeia and Cepheus. “You’re on our ship, the Urania.”

“The Urania?” He stirred again, blinking. Cryogenic suspension hadn’t done his vision any favours, “We were looking for the Hermes. Where are you headed?”

“The Hephaestus sent out a distress call. We’re headed there to help.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. “You did a good job - you were almost at the Hermes when we picked you up.”

“So you’re going back there?” He sounded relieved and distressed in equal measure.

“I’m sure your crewmates will be happy to see you both.” He wished Cepheus’s new-found skill in comforting people would transfer to him. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Daniel Jacobi. And Cepheus is the one over there.”

“Doug Eiffel,” he rasped, “but you knew that already. And that’s my Cassiopeia.”

“She’s going to be fine,” Jacobi promised. “She’s doing better than you, actually.” He passed him a silver ziploc bag of water. “We’ll be at the Hephaestus in a few days.”

“A few days,” Eiffel repeated, his head lolling back. “How long has it been?”

“Since you went missing?” He tried to recall from the ship’s logs. _Six months._ The thought alone was horrifying. “It’s been… some time. I’m sure they’re all fine,” he added lamely, remembering that they didn’t actually _know_ if the rest of the crew were still alive.

“They’ll all be fine,” Eiffel repeated, more to soothe himself than anything else. He was slipping out of consciousness again, this time into a more natural sleep. Cepheus padded over, Cassiopeia once again in her mouth, and gracefully leapt up onto the table to place the rabbit-daemon on Eiffel’s chest.

“You did it,” Cassie murmured, burrowing into his clothes to settle over his heart. “You got us out. You kept us safe.”

Jacobi watched them, feeling oddly moved for someone who prided himself on his professional manner. He scooped up Cepheus and held her close.

“What on Earth’s gotten into you?” she parroted, but stayed there anyway, content in his arms for once.

“Shut up.” He buried his face in her fur. They were together. He could keep her safe.

*

As luck would have it, Jacobi and Eiffel were assigned to the same late-night work detail just a few days after Cassiopeia convinced Eiffel to talk to him. Having coerced her human into an awkward conversation, however, the rabbit-daemon had discarded all responsibility for initiating it, and currently seemed to be seeing how many times she could jump over their feet without getting stepped on.

“So, you and Kepler…” Eiffel began, after twenty minutes of silence aside from the occasional squeak from Cassiopeia. “How did you end up working for him?”

“I got headhunted,” Jacobi said, not bothering to look at him as he replied. “He needed a ballistics expert.”

“And he picked you because you were one of the best?”

“Because I am _the_ best.”

This was not going well. “So… you must have some interesting stories about that. Your boss never seems to shut up about them.”

“Mmm.” Jacobi tinkered with the part of the ship he was repairing. “Nothing you’d find interesting, I’m sure. What’s with the sudden interest in my work?”

Eiffel shrugged, “There aren’t enough of us here to just _not_ be interested in anyone.” _Also your boss touches your daemon and we all have so many questions about that._

Jacobi sighed, sounding a little exasperated, and finally turned to look at him. “We’re not sleeping together,” he said abruptly.

He blinked. “... I didn’t ask, but OK.”

Jacobi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you were going to ask, so I thought I’d get it over with. Yes, to the best of my knowledge we are the only two gay men in our division, but no, we’re not sleeping together. So you can tell the rest of your team they can stop fishing for information, all right?” He turned back to his work, scowling a little. Beside him, Cepheus barely restrained an amused grin.

“Who’s been fishing?” Cassiopeia squeaked from the floor. “We were just trying to be nice.”

“ _You’re_ fishing, and it’s unsubtle.” Eiffel was painfully reminded by his tone that the man he was dealing with was in fact black ops, and he was just the guy who worked the radios. “Anything else you want to ask?” Jacobi continued, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he looked back up. “Please, let’s get it out of the way now.”

Eiffel was silenced. Cassiopeia on the other hand: “So does Kepler creep on _everyone’s_ daemons, or just Cepheus? Because I need to know how far away from him to stay.”

Jacobi prodded Cepheus, earning an undignified squawk from his daemon. “Answer the lady.”

“...Nope. You’re fine.” If a fox could have gotten any redder, she would have been blushing.

“Good to know.” Cassie returned to her seemingly-aimless hopping.

Jacobi continued to tinker in the silence, before putting down his tools. “He does it to psyche you out,” he said out of the blue, sounding weary. “So do us both a favour and stop fixating on it.”

“Who said we were _fixating_ on it?” Eiffel finally recovered his power of speech. “It was just a question.”

“I saw your face in the bridge that day. I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at us ever since. You’re not very good at this, you know. It’s almost endearing.”

Eiffel rolled his eyes, “Wow, blame us for _worrying_ about our crewmates.”

Something that could almost have been called a smile appeared on Jacobi’s face. “I’m a big boy, Eiffel, I can look after myself. What were you _worried_ about, exactly?”

“That your commanding officer is weird and creepy and inappropriate?” One day, Cassiopeia was going to cross a line her cuteness couldn’t pull her back from.

“Oh, Jesus,” Jacobi muttered, at the same time that Cepheus growled.

“You’ll want to take that back,” she said lowly, baring a hint of teeth.

For a rabbit faced with an angry fox, Cassiopeia seemed utterly unbothered. “Let me think about that… Nope.”

Eiffel looked nervously between the two daemons. “Cass-”

Cepheus stalked forward, snarling, while Jacobi watched lazily in the background. “You have _no_ idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t need to. He’s creepy and kind of exhibi- hey!” Cassiopeia wriggled as Eiffel scooped her up in one hand. “Put me down! I hadn’t finished!”

Jacobi, who had remained entirely unruffled, reluctantly reached out to pull Cepheus back. “Knock it _off_ , Ceph.”

Cepheus didn’t seem inclined to knock it off. “But she-”

“But _nothing._ If you’re gonna show off with Kepler, you can take the consequences. And _you,_ ” he said, looking at Eiffel, “keep an eye on that mouth of your daemon’s. I can’t always make Ceph back down, she likes Kepler more than me.” He put a firm hand on the scruff of Cepheus’s neck to emphasise his point, and she slowly retreated.

Eiffel and Cassiopeia’s eyes flicked between Jacobi and his daemon. “I’m… sorry,” Eiffel said, and gently poked his own daemon until she sulkily echoed his words.

Jacobi immediately regretted saying his last few words - they were probably true, but Eiffel didn’t need to know about it. “Good. Cepheus has never apologised to anyone in her life and I doubt she’s going to start now, so shall we get back to work?”

“We can definitely do that,” Eiffel quickly agreed.

Cassiopeia, now on his shoulder, muttered into his ear: “So much for Team Nicepionage.”

Eiffel nodded sadly, but he was finally realising that she _had_ had a point. As he watched Jacobi’s daemon snarl at him as he tried to soothe her, Eiffel’s stomach twisted. Something was _definitely_ wrong there.

“The hell was that about?” Jacobi asked later, once they were finally off-duty and back in their room on the Urania. “What happened to the nice Cepheus who defrosts rabbits in her spare time?”

“Rabbits who aren’t little shits,” Cepheus snapped, curling up to face the wall rather than Jacobi.

“They were trying to be nice,” Jacobi said, wondering how on earth he’d started playing Eiffel’s advocate in all this. “You didn’t have to rise to the bait.”

“And _she_ didn’t have to open her stupid little mouth, but she did.”

Jacobi threw his hands up in the air: “God, who _cares?_ He _is_ creepy! He can be inappropriate! That doesn’t mean we don’t think he’s a brilliant man, but if I’m thinking those things, then you have to be too.” She _had_ to be. She was half of his soul, after all.

Cepheus snorted, still not looking at him. “You _really_ don’t know much about what I’m thinking any more, Daniel.”

“So what,” he rolled his eyes, “we’re just separate people now? You hate me that much? You can’t hate me, Cepheus. You _are_ me.”

“Got it in one.”

He sighed, and tried to control his anger. “But I don’t hate you.”

She sighed, resting her head in her paws. “I don’t hate _you_. I just don’t like you very much.”

It would have felt like a punch to the gut, except he already knew it, and he knew why. “That’s just the depression talking, Cepheus. Has been for years. That doesn’t mean we stop functioning, or that we try and love other people more to make up for it. We’re supposed to work through it _together._ ”

She curled into a tighter ball. “Shame you can’t antidepressant your soul away.”

Jacobi approached her carefully. “I don’t want to, and neither do you, not really. I’ll try harder, okay? When we get back I’ll start therapy again. But you have to work _with_ me.”

Cepheus sniffed. “It’s so hard, though.”

He took a chance and laid a hand on her spine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles in her fur. “I know. But   
if there was any time that we just _can’t_ have a really low period, it’s this mission. We need to be sharp. We need to be a _team._ ”

She leant into his hand. “I know. It’s just… isn’t _he_ on our team? Alana and Columba are. Even if that bird is about as bad at keeping his mouth shut as Eiffel’s rabbit.”

“Of course he is,” he said, stroking. “I wasn’t objecting to you defending Kepler. I was objecting to you trying to fight a _bunny rabbit._ ” It had been a strained week on his and Kepler’s relationship, but the colonel was still _his_ colonel.

“A _very annoying_ bunny rabbit,” she qualified. “Tell me she doesn’t get on your nerves too.”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But… Eiffel doesn’t. Not always.”

“He tries,” she admitted, grudgingly. “But _her…_ Ugh.”

“Just don’t _fight_ anyone, is all I’m asking. I don’t need to feel any worse right now.”

Cepheus sighed. “I’ll try. But if I _did_ fight her, we’d win.”

“Duh.” In a sudden fit of affection, he scooped her up onto his lap. “I love you, you know that?” The Goddard-issued therapist said they should say it more often, but they never found the time.

She nipped at him affectionately, “I love you too. Sap.” But she snuggled against him anyway. “I’ll try and stop… showing off with Kepler. If that’s what you want.”

“I do,” he said, grateful. “But… I do understand, you know? I get why you do it. Why _we_ do it, if I’m being... totally honest.”

“Mm, you do?” She hadn’t thought he was that self-aware. She nuzzled against his hand, as if rewarding him.

“Of course I do. He’s… strong, and capable, and he doesn’t have clinical depression. No wonder we want to be him.”

She looked almost… disappointed. “And that’s all?”

He groaned. “And… he rescued you. When I was drunk and miserable and unemployed.”

She nodded. “He did. And I’m _trying_ not to be angry about it any more.” The therapist had had words with her about that.

“Six years later,” Jacobi murmured. “I’m trying not to be angry about it any more too.”

“We aren’t very good at not being angry,” she said, softly.

“Well, it’s how we were raised.” He yawned. “Enough _feelings_ talk for one night, do you think?”

“Bleh, definitely,” she agreed.

“Good.” He gave her one last scratch around the ears and stood up. “Wanna go find Maxwell?”

“One more minute,” she agreed, butting him gently.

*

_Well, this is awkward._ Eiffel hadn’t really spoken to Jacobi since Cassiopeia and Cepheus had had their… disagreement. And now both their daemons were back on the other side of the airlock and he and Jacobi were stuck on space-walk duty together.

“You doing okay?” Jacobi asked after a period of silence. Their daemons weren’t far enough away for it to be unbearable, but he still felt a pang for Cepheus as he worked.

“Better than I expected,” Eiffel replied. “I… haven’t exactly done a spacewalk without Cass before.”

“Don’t worry, Cepheus won’t attack while you’re out here,” Jacobi said wryly, misinterpreting the situation.

Eiffel shook his head, then realised the gesture was invisible in his suit. “I’m not worried about that. I’m sure Cassiopeia will behave herself too. It’s just hard being so far from her.”

“Ah, right.” He bumped Eiffel’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “We won’t be long. Uh, while we’re here, I should apologise for the other day.”

Eiffel ducked his head, embarrassed. “You don’t need to apologise. You were right. We were prying, and Cassiopeia was out of line.”

“Yeah,” Jacobi sighed, “I kinda do. You may have noticed that Cepheus and I… Well, we have a pretty strained relationship. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

What was the right response to that? “We should’ve known better than to get involved. God knows Cassie and I have had times where we didn’t get exactly get along.”

“You two? Seriously?”

Eiffel sighed. After all his prying, he probably owed Jacobi something. “I used to be kind of self-destructive. Unfortunately, being self-destructive meant being Cass-destructive, and… well. We’re OK now,” he finished lamely. He didn’t really want to think about the more difficult parts of his relationship with his daemon. Like losing Anne. And Polaris.

“Huh,” Jacobi said. For a moment he was determined not to say anything, and then his worse judgement won out. “I wasn’t headhunted,” he said quickly.

“What?”

“You asked how I got involved with Kepler. He found me in a bar in San Francisco, drunk and unemployed and… well, depressed. Except I didn’t know that at the time. I mean, I knew I was _depressed,_ but not like… with a ‘capital D’, you know? So he bought me a drink and I spilled my whole life story, and after he left, I found his dropped-accidentally-on-purpose business card. And I threw it away.” He paused, and waited to see if Eiffel wanted to know the rest, and if he wanted to tell him.

“That… sounds familiar.” Even through the rasp of microphone and speakers, Eiffel’s voice sounded soft. “You threw it away? So… I’m guessing he came back?”

“Nope,” Jacobi replied, popping the ‘p’. “Cepheus fished it out of the trash and dragged me to the address. Literally dragged - she just kept walking and Pulling until I _had_ to follow her. I didn’t even know where she was going. She went and found Kepler and basically threw herself on his mercy - I was killing her, see,” he said matter-of-factly, like ripping a band-aid off. “Both of us. Slowly. And she figured she’d finally found someone who could take better care of her. That’s why those two are so… close.”

“That… makes sense.” He picked his words carefully. “Cassie might have done the same, if she’d been offered the choice when we were in a similar position.” Cassie _would_ have done the same. Out of the two of them, he sometimes thought she’d gotten all the stubbornness. And the nerve.

“I see,” Jacobi said: unsurprised, but not unsympathetic. “So, anyway,” he coughed. “She was tetchy the other day because we were... in a low mood. Except you can’t have a ‘low mood’ at work, so on a day where I might have just stayed in bed and taken my meds and done nothing else, we got up to work and… Well. Not that your daemon should have provoked her, mind, but it was bad timing and she couldn’t have known that.”

“She can be… pushy sometimes. Particularly when she thinks she knows what’s best for someone. She’s had to be.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jacobi as he said the next part: “We were in prison.”

“Oh.” Part of him felt like he should have known that, but maybe even in Goddard’s world, people still had secrets.

“Don’t worry, Goddard knew.” He laughed, without humour. “Where do you think they picked me up from? They were _really_ scraping the bottom of the barrel with me.” His face softened. “Not with Cass, though. She… does her best for us. For everyone, really. Even if she _is_ a little shit sometimes.”

Jacobi laughed, a genuine laugh, and some of the tension dissipated. “You don’t have to say any more,” he promised. “I’m hardly in a position to judge. And I think we’re nearly done,” he judged, looking at the patch job he’d been repairing.

“Thank God for that. This nearly got _messy,_ ” Eiffel joked. “And our daemons don’t seem to have killed each other yet! Miracles still happen on the Hephaestus.”

“You know, I think you might be right.” Jacobi pulled on the tether, and stretched his other hand out to Eiffel. “Ready?”

He took it, releasing his mag-boots. “Ready. Let’s get back to our girls.”

The girls had been waiting by the airlock for the past half-hour, Cepheus irritated but still, Cassiopeia almost a blur of constant movement.

“Would it kill you to sit _still?_ ” she snapped, after the rabbit-daemon trod on her tail for the third time. _No wonder your human left you at the airlock if you’re always like this._

“They’ve been gone for _ages,_ ” Cassie whined.

“It’s been less than ten minutes and you’ve been jumping on me for _all of them._ ”

“Well, I’m sorry that I _worry_ about my human,” Cassiopeia retorted, but sat down nearby. “He left me behind. He _never_ leaves me behind.”

“They want to talk alone,” Cepheus said, as if it was obvious. “Surely even you, you tactless little thing, can realise that.”

“What could they _possibly_ want to talk about that we shouldn’t hear? We _are_ them!” She huffed, flopping fully to the floor.

“We’re… not _all_ of them,” Cepheus said, amused.

“We’re _enough_ of them. Who can they trust if not us?”

“No, I meant - physically, we’re not _all_ of them.” She paused and regarded Cassie’s confusion. “Oh dear. Daniel’s going to be very disappointed.”

“What- _oh_ ,” Enlightenment dawned in Cassiopeia’s eyes. “On a space-walk? Is that _really_ the best place for that sort of conversation?”

“Why not?” Cepheus asked, stretching. “Visors on, so no awkward eye contact. Daemons stuck on the inside, so _you_ can’t say something stupid and ruin it. No-one else can hear them, except maybe Hera.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t _ruin_ anything,” the rabbit sniffed. “I can be subtle. We’ve done _fine_ on that front in the past, thank you _very_ much.”

“Yes,” Cepheus said as patiently as she could, “but if _you_ weren’t thinking about it, then neither is Eiffel. Which is a shame, but I suppose it’s for the best. Two households, and all that.”

“Wait, so you _were_ thinking about that? You don’t even _like_ me - us - ugh, this is confusing.” The anxious hopping had returned in force.

She grinned, somewhat unkindly. “Hey, Daniel just needs to get laid. _I_ don’t have any particular feelings on the subject one way or another.”

“ _Charming._ ” She flopped onto the floor again, and for a moment Cepheus thought she’d stopped talking altogether. Then: “But really? He _likes_ him?”

“I wouldn’t say _likes._ His options on this station are limited. As are Eiffel’s,” Cepheus pointed out.

“Well, _duh._ Nobody comes to space for the dating scene.” Cassie rolled onto her back, nearly onto Cepheus’s tail again. “That would be so _weird._ We’d have to actually spend _time_ together.”

“You were pretty cute when you were half-frozen,” Cepheus said. “Couldn’t you just… be asleep more?”

Cassie froze mid-roll. “Wait, that was _you?_ ” She’d remembered the warmth, and the gentle voice of another daemon, but when she’d woken up, there’d been only her and Eiffel. She thought she’d dreamed it. “ _You_ warmed me up? You don’t even _like_ me!”

Cepheus sniffed. “Well, someone had to defrost you, and Andromeda certainly wasn’t going to lower herself to that.”

“And you didn’t tell me? I would’ve said thank you!” She looked torn between the desire to apologise and the desire to snap out of sheer confusion. “Weeks on the Urania and you never mentioned it?”

“I didn’t realise you were going to make a big _thing_ of it,” Cepheus said, eyeing her curiously. “Uh. You’re welcome?”

“It was… nice of you,” Cassiopeia admitted, almost grudgingly. “You were pretty _nice_ when I was half-frozen, come to think of it, Ceph.” She nudged the fox’s tail with her nose. “You know, we could start again. Try and be friends? I’ll stop being a little shit if you stop snapping at me.” She looked up at Cepheus, eyes wide.

“Hmph.” Cepheus swished her tail, considering it. “As long as you don’t insult our commanding officer again, I guess we can be square.”

“Square it is,” Cassiopeia agreed, cheerfully. Then, more seriously: “I… should probably have shut up about Kepler before. I don’t know anything about you and him and Jacobi… I was shooting my mouth off.”

“Yes,” Cepheus agreed. “You were.”

There was a pause.

“But?” Cassie asked, hopefully.

“No, that was it.”

“There should be a but,” said Cassie, decidedly. She nudged Cepheus again. “Come on, work with me? We’re _bonding._ ” _And we’re going to_ need _to bond if you’re right about our humans._

Cepheus sighed. “ _But,_ ” she said, exaggeratedly, “I wasn’t having a very good day, and your _inane_ comment gave me an excuse to take it out on someone.”

“See? Bonding!” She sounded genuinely thrilled. “It’ll be nice to have another friend around. Dabih’s _awful,_ and Echo and Rigel never let me do anything _interesting._ ”

“This is going to be fun,” Cepheus said dryly. “I can tell.” There was a sharp hiss, and a change in air pressure as the outer airlock door opened. “Here they come.”

Cassie sat up to attention, watching the inner door attentively. “Do you think they’ll tell us how it went?”

“Are you going to tell them what went on here?”

She sniffed, tilting her head up so that her ears flopped back, pretending a dignity that nobody could believe of her. “If they ask.”

“They won’t,” Cepheus said. “And neither will we. Sometimes it’s good to have time apart.”

“Hm.” The rabbit looked thoughtful. “I never thought of that before.” She grinned at the other daemon. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Ceph.”

Cepheus swatted her with her tail, almost affectionately. “Idiot.”

*

At first, neither Eiffel nor Jacobi noticed how _peaceful_ their shared duties had become. If Cassiopeia spent significantly more time out of her human’s flight suit and Cepheus had stopped loudly objecting to the rabbit’s company, it was hard to notice an absence of bickering. It was harder to miss the two daemons curled up on the floor together, close but not quite touching, and clearly deep in a conversation of their own.

“Okay, what are you plotting?” Eiffel called over, loudly.

“We’re not _plotting,_ we’re having a private conversation. Go away!” Cassie yelled back, her tone affectionate but final. She turned back to Cepheus. “Ugh, he can be so _clingy._ ”

“Welcome to my world,” Cepheus said, amused. “They’re going to say I’m a bad influence on you.”

Cassie snorted. “Like I could get much more badly behaved. Minkowski and Rigel used to say they’d throw me out of the airlock if I wasn’t so cute,” she told her, almost proudly. “If anything, they’ll think _I’m_ a bad influence on _you._ ”

“I don’t doubt that.” Cepheus yawned and stretched, moving from a sitting-position to lying down. “What was I saying before we were interrupted?”

“Something about Columba and Maxwell?” One of the things Cassie had noticed first about the SI-5 daemons was how _reserved_ they were. She and Rigel and Echo were more often touching than not, but Cepheus kept her distance from Andromeda and bickered with Columba more than she played with him. It seemed a lonely way to live.

“Oh, right. Don’t judge everything on appearances: Columba’s my best friend, but he hates to be touched. Maxwell too, according to Daniel.”

“I didn’t realise,” Cassie admitted, because it was true. “But you don’t?”

“I am fluffy for a reason,” Cepheus said solemnly, before catching Cassie’s eye and laughing.

“As am I,” Cassie agreed, pouncing on Cepheus’ tail, more like a kitten than a rabbit. “It’s not fair! Your tail is so soft!”

“Get _off,_ ” Cepheus rolled her eyes, but didn’t push her away. “When did you settle?”

“When we were about twelve,” she replied, “We didn’t really expect this form to take but…” she rolled onto her back, “here we are. And you have to admit, it _is_ pretty cute.”

“I admit nothing.”

“What about you?” she asked, drawing away a little. “When did you settle?”

“Oh, late. Just before our fourteenth birthday. He was going a little crazy, but that’s Daniel for you. We sorted it out eventually. I think he was pleased, though _dad_ wasn’t.” She sniffed and shivered at the memory of Roy Jacobi and his greyhound-daemon. It had been worth it.

“We weren’t exactly pleased at first, you know how people see rabbit-daemons, but we got used to the advantages,” Cassie said, off-handedly. “Besides, there’s more to rabbits than running away.”

Cepheus didn’t say how most of the people in special ops saw prey daemons. “‘Course there is. It’s just stereotypes.”

“Which is ridiculous, because _we_ get along fine.” Cassie actually _snuggled_ her. It was strange, but not… unenjoyable.

“Maybe a little too fine,” Cepheus murmured lowly, remembering how Andromeda had pinned her to the wall and sniffed her the night before as they’d boarded the Urania after work detail. “But it’s okay.”

Cassie wrinkled her nose. “Well, do you mind?” she said, frankly. “We’re all stuck out here together. We might as well make friends.”

“Kepler did _not_ send us here to make friends. And more to the point, I’m not entirely sure the boys have… friendship on their minds.”

“Like the boys know anything worth knowing,” Cassie said, dismissively. “What are we supposed to do? Ignore each other while they make a decision?”

“Calm down, bunny, I didn’t say that. I’m happy that Daniel’s happy, lord knows it doesn’t happen often. I’m just keeping a sharp eye on things.” She didn’t mention the guilt in her stomach that reared its head every time she passed Kepler and Andromeda, or when Columba asked why they weren’t spending much time together lately.

Cassie nudged her, “Don’t you think you’re being a _little_ paranoid? And I have a _name._ If you start calling me bunny, I’ll start calling you foxy.”

“Don’t you dare. And I’m not paranoid. You don’t know how life-and-death these missions can be, you’re not special ops. There are _rules._ Written and unwritten.” She didn’t say anything more. Inter-crew relationships weren’t _forbidden,_ not exactly, but she could only imagine how furious Kepler would be if he thought Daniel’s loyalties had shifted. Maxwell wouldn’t exactly love the idea either.

“Sure there are, but we haven’t done anything. We’re just talking.” Cassie hoped she didn’t sound like she was trying to reassure herself as well as Cepheus. ‘Just talking’ was a good start for Team Nicepionage.

“Hmm. Is there someone back home?” Cepheus asked abruptly, wondering how much heartache she’d have to deal with in the coming weeks. “For you and Eiffel?”

“Not… exactly.” She couldn’t imagine _any_ of her family was still waiting for them back on Earth. That didn’t stop her missing them all. Kate and Castor and Anne and _Polaris_. They’d been a family for so little time, and she’d never have them back.

Cepheus nudged her. “Not exactly?”

“There’s nobody waiting for us,” she clarified, suddenly moody. They _shouldn’t_ be waiting for them, after what they’d done, but that didn’t mean she didn’t _want_ them to. “And nobody like that, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Cepheus said, flicking her tail. “Us neither. Daniel’s never had particularly good taste in men, and I’m not exactly easy to get on with either.”

“ _I_ like you,” Cassiopeia replied, eager to change the subject. “If daemons back on Earth couldn’t deal with you, that’s a marker of their poor taste.”

She grinned. “You know, Columba says you inflate my ego. I don’t know _what_ he means.”

“Pff, Columba’s one to talk about other daemons’ egos,” she giggled, more out of relief than genuine amusement.

“Hmm.” Cepheus stayed quiet for a while, wondering what the rabbit had refused to say earlier, but deciding not to push it. “Would you mind?” she asked instead. “If Eiffel did find someone.”

“Depends on the person,” Cassie replied, lightly. “As long as they made each other happy, anyway.”

“Don’t be coy, you know what I meant.” Cepheus nodded towards where Eiffel and Jacobi were laughing about something and happily ignoring them.

Cassiopeia sniffed, “If I _minded_ , I’d object more to spending time with you.” She nudged the fox-daemon with her nose. “Besides, they’re cute.”

“Mmm. I suppose they are.”

Cassie nudged her again. “Hey, you started this topic. What do _you_ think?”

“I think…” she groaned, slightly, and pushed her muzzle to the floor before straightening up again. “I think it’s an absolutely terrible idea. But I can’t tell you how nice it feels when he - when either of us are actually _happy_.”

Cassie suddenly went still and silent. Then, in an uncharacteristically small voice: “I… I know how that feels.”

She nudged her gently. “Are we talking about it or not, bunny?”

Cassiopeia buried her nose in her paws. “Talking is _hard,_ ” she whined. “Besides, it’s depressing and you don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m already depressed, you can’t make it any _worse._ Tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Not _fair_ ,” the rabbit-daemon complained, but drew closer to the fox any way. “It’s just… a lot. We did have someone, back on Earth. And then we had two someones. And then we did something very stupid and drove them both away and ended up in jail for it. And now we’re here.” The words spilled out in an almost-garbled stream. She didn’t know how to talk about her family any more. Even she and Eiffel didn’t talk about them much aloud. It hurt too much.

“Jail?” Cepheus asked, at the same time that Eiffel turned around, a pained expression on his face.

“Cassie, everything okay?” he called across the room.

“Yes!” she squeaked, almost attempting to hide behind Cepheus. For the other daemon’s ears alone, she said, more quietly, “ _Don’t tell anyone._ ”

“Can’t judge,” Cepheus said, a wry smile on her face. “Oh, calm _down_ ,” she called over to Daniel, who had been jerked out of his comfortable conversation and was uncomfortably remembering where he was and who he was getting friendly with. “I’m coming.”

Cassie followed her, “You owe me the second half of that conversation,” she teased, before they were back in the humans’ hearing range.

Daniel coughed and laid an uncharacteristic hand on Cepheus’s neck. “Everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Cassiopeia chirped, with a false brightness, as Eiffel scooped her up.

Cepheus echoed her: “Everything’s fine.”

Jacobi and Eiffel looked between the two daemons and then at each other. They didn’t _seem_ to be arguing but they both looked… withdrawn. Tired. And neither of them seemed inclined to elaborate on what they’d been talking about before they’d been interrupted.

*

Jacobi knocked roughly on the door of Eiffel’s quarters. “It’s Jacobi. Can I come in?”

He heard a groan from the other side of the door. “ _Fine_.” When he entered, Eiffel was reclined on his bunk, eyes shut. He sat up properly to allow Jacobi to sit down. “Cass isn’t speaking to either of you right now, you know.” The rabbit-daemon, curled on a small shelf next to the bed, gave a confirming _hmph_. “She’s pretty pissed off about the two of you trying to pin the blame on us.”

“You tried to pin it on us too,” Jacobi said, amused. “I brought a peace offering.”

Eiffel grinned, and Cassiopeia cracked one eye open. “Shut the door and sit down, then. Let’s talk peace.”

“Well,” Jacobi said, sitting down on the bed while Cepheus went to join Cassie, “neither of us drink, and I’m not sure there’s any alcohol _left_ on the Urania, so… hot chocolate? I went to make coffee, but Maxwell stopped me. Apparently I’m ‘wired enough without adding extra caffeine to the mix’.”

“She has a point,” Eiffel teased, “but I haven’t had hot chocolate in _years._ Give me some of that?”

He passed the mug over. “Yeah, we brought a bunch of supplies with us. Figured after the day we’ve had… Sometimes I could _strangle_ him. You know. If I could reach him.”

“We could get you a stool. And Cass and I could fend Andromeda off, at least for a little while.” He leaned back against the wall, taking a small sip from the mug as he did so. He hadn’t had hot chocolate since… since the last time Anne and Polaris had had a bad dream. The thought made his throat oddly tight. “You - you brought the good stuff.” He hoped he sounded playful, and not… whatever this feeling was.

“You all right? That cocoa making you weepy, or is it the spacewalk from earlier?”

“ _Definitely_ the spacewalk.” He handed the mug back. “Can you believe he made us go out there to get him an _empty bottle?_ What was the point meant to be?”

“Oh, that is not even scraping the _surface_ of Kepler insanity. Trust me, we got off easy.” Jacobi took a long drink of cocoa to stop himself saying anything else.

“Is he always this…” _Insane?_ He didn’t really want to piss off Cepheus again, so he settled on: “Creative?”

Jacobi barked out a laugh. “Yes, he is always… _this._ Don’t mind her, she’s pissed too. It was bound to happen sometime.”

“Wow, that bad?” It had, in fairness, been pretty bad. Not least because the daemons had been explicitly forbidden from joining their humans on the spacewalk, even Cassiopeia. Kepler had claimed that their ‘equal responsibility’ merited an equal punishment, and all three of them had been pretty… scarred by the experience. Especially Rigel, who hadn’t quite recovered from Hilbert sealing Minkowski outside the station that Christmas that felt _centuries_ away now.

“That bad. She was almost _cuddly_ after. Weren’t you, darling?” From the shelf, Cepheus huffed, and resumed trying to get to Cassie to talk to her. “We all went out… pretty far. Too far, I guess.”

Eiffel shuddered. “I never want to do _that_ again. Does he do that often?”

“Oh, daemon manipulation? Nah, never noticed _that_ before,” Jacobi rolled his eyes, leaning back. “It’s sort of his shtick. One of his many shticks. He gets a kick out of it, I think.”

Eiffel shook his head, and cupped his hands around the mug Jacobi handed him. “I preferred it when his shtick was telling really long stories none of us cared about.” He took a sip, then added darkly, “If he comes between me and Cass again…”

“Careful.”

He waved him off. “I know, I know.” He handed the hot chocolate back and rested his head in his hands. “I think after the day we’ve had, I think we’re entitled to run our mouths a little. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Jacobi frowned a little. “I didn’t mean - not, _careful,_ I don’t want you saying mean things about my boss or there’ll be consequences, I meant… be careful.”

He rolled his eyes, “Come on, Jacobi, what are me and Cass going to do? We’re harmless.” He paused, then grinned. “Well. Mostly harmless.”

“Don’t give him a reason to target you,” Jacobi replied darkly. “Or _I’m_ going to feel bad about it, for some reason.”

“Aw, worrying about us?” Eiffel teased, “Don’t worry, we can look after ourselves. And I’m pretty sure we’re beneath Kepler’s notice as it is. What with having a ‘prey daemon.’” The air-quotes he placed around the phrase didn’t really conceal his disgust.

“Oh, please. Andromeda is a _panther,_ everyone’s prey to her. Did - did someone say something about that?”

“They didn’t need to.” Eiffel raised his eyebrows. “What, you think you don’t notice these things when your daemon settles as a rabbit, and a _small_ rabbit at that? Cass and I never cared, but you’d be surprised how many people did.”

“That… sucks. Sorry. If it helps, not everyone was _thrilled_ when Ceph settled as a fox.” It was hard to gauge Eiffel’s expression from the side, his eyes closed, head tilted up towards the flickering light.

“You always end up disappointing _someone_ when your daemon settles,” he said, eventually. He wondered if Polaris had settled yet. Ever since Anne had been a baby, he’d looked like a smaller rabbit if Cassiopeia was nearby. He wondered if he’d ever looked like that again after the accident. But _that_ subject was too painful to raise, so instead: “Foxes are clever, at least, and you and Ceph aren’t exactly an exception to that rule.”

“Foxes are hunted by rich posh people,” Jacobi argued, before registering the compliment. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Wow, you really need to work on taking praise when you get it,” Eiffel teased. “Anyway, what kind of idiot would hunt something like your Ceph?” _Aside from the same idiots who’d hunt something like my Cassie._

“Yeah. Idiots.” The motif made sense, though; his relationship with his father, being one of the very few gay men in a paramilitary organisation… “Hey. Imagine you’re twelve, right, and your daemon settles as a _panther._ Like obviously it works for them now, but, how cocky can you possibly be aged _twelve_ to end up with a daemon that big?”

Eiffel snorted, leaning slightly so his shoulder was pressed against Jacobi’s. “Can you even imagine? At least Cass is subtle in terms of form, if not volume.” His daemon seemed too involved in her mumbled conversation with Cepheus to respond.

“Could have been worse, I suppose. My first boyfriend’s daemon was a horse. Nightmare. You two seem very cosy,” Jacobi said, looking over at the two daemons as he suddenly addressed them. “When did that happen?”

It had begun when Cepheus had hopped up into the small alcove next to Cassiopeia, who resolutely faced the corner rather than look at her.

“Oh, don’t sulk. I’ve had enough of the cold shoulder for one day.” Cepheus nudged her little body with her nose. “Talk to me, bunny.” Cassie only _hmphed,_ and wriggled closer to the corner, away from Cepheus. “Cassie… Come on, we’ve all had a rough day.”

“You can say that again,” Cassiopeia’s voice lacked its usual squeak. Both of them had been in a bad state when their humans returned to the airlock.

“It hurt, didn’t it?” Cepheus made her voice soft and gentle. “I know. I know.”

“It hurt _a lot._ ” She sounded muted, distant. Not at all like the Cassie Cepheus knew.

“I didn’t think it would be that bad,” Cepheus admitted. “Normally they stay close to the airlock and it’s fine, like last time. I guess they had to drift further away to get the bottle.” It had more than hurt - a raw ache in her chest, like someone had speared a fish-hook into her heart and _tugged._

“He knew it would hurt,” Cassie muttered, more to herself than Cepheus. “He _knew,_ and he made them do it anyway. We weren’t even _involved_ in their stupid argument, but he didn’t care.”

“He… doesn’t tolerate insubordination well.” She couldn’t even defend him. The words wouldn’t come. She’d sat there heartbroken outside the airlock, pawing and whining at the door and Kepler and Andromeda, her _saviours_ , had just stood there and watched stony-faced.

“It wasn’t even _that._ ” Her voice cracked into a sob, and Cepheus realised she was crying. “How could they just… how could they?”

“Hey,” Cepheus said softly, crouching low to fit in beside her and provide some warmth. “Uh, don’t cry. It’s over now.” Awkward in the small space, she tried her best to be comforting.

Cassie sniffed, and almost snuggled against her side in spite of herself. “I know they don’t care about me, or Rigel, but you… You’re _you._ How could they just… do that? Like it didn’t matter you were hurting? _I_ care, and I’m still mad at you!”

“Ssh,” she said worriedly, but the two humans were far too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice. “Look, it’s… Christ, don’t worry about _me._ ”

The rabbit sniffled, then spoke in a watery voice: “You can’t stop me.”

“Seriously,” Cepheus almost laughed. “I’m… okay. It’s _you_ we’re checking up on.”

“We’re _fine._ ” Cassie did not look fine, curled up smaller than she’d ever been. She wasn’t _moving,_ wasn’t fidgeting or snuggling or playing any of her usual _irritating_ tricks. Cepheus nudged her again. “Seriously, you don’t need to check up on us.”

“Maybe we needed to be comforted too,” Cepheus said slyly. “Besides, no-one’s jumped on my tail in _hours._ ”

“Like you’d miss _that,_ ” Cassie responded, but she drew a little closer to Cepheus, almost in spite of herself.

“That’s my girl,” Cepheus murmured. “You couldn’t hide away forever, you’d get bored.”

“I knew you’d miss me,” Cassie teased, snuggling against her side properly. Cepheus hadn’t realised she’d _missed_ the rabbit-daemon’s utter disregard for personal space until she felt the relief that it had returned. Cassie was still Cassie. “You’d be bored without me too, admit it.”

It was easier to tease Cepheus than to stay angry with her, to demand answers about why she hadn’t spoken up to Kepler and Andromeda. She knew the answer now - they wouldn’t have listened. And she didn’t know whether she wanted to scream at their heartlessness or weep for Ceph, so she did neither, and curled closer to the fox-daemon. She could pretend for now. Cassiopeia was _good_ at pretending.

“I admit nothing,” Cepheus yawned, finally somewhat comfortable in the tiny alcove. She could vaguely hear Daniel talking about Andromeda, but it didn’t make her tense up.

“Of course not. It would _ruin_ your image.” Cassiopeia was now almost entirely surrounded by Cepheus - the alcove which was usually hers alone was not really made for two daemons - but she found she didn’t mind. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our secret.”

There were a few moments of quiet, then Jacobi’s voice cut through their sleepy, comfortable haze: “You two seem very cosy. When did that happen?”

“When you weren’t paying attention?” Cassie said, no trace of her former sulk left in her voice.

“She speaks!”

“Daemons do that, you know,” Ceph responded, drily. “Besides, you two don’t exactly look _reserved._ ”

The humans suddenly became very aware of the lack of space between them, and Jacobi shifted suddenly away.

“We should go-” he began, but Eiffel laid a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s OK, you - you can stay. If you want to.” There was a moment of silence, the words hanging almost visible in the air. Cassiopeia had frozen in place, Cepheus realised suddenly.

Jacobi leaned in, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t want to keep you awake.”

“I - we wouldn’t mind.”

The offer was tempting. It had been a _long_ time since… Jacobi placed a hand over Eiffel’s, and for a moment almost gave in. Then he gently pushed Eiffel’s hand off his arm.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” He stood, and Cepheus reluctantly slunk down from the shelf after him, tail lashing. Cassiopeia still hadn’t moved, even as Eiffel reached out blindly for her.

“It’s not you,” Jacobi said awkwardly as he reached the door. “It’s just… too complicated. You and me.”

He didn’t say anything as the door shut behind them.

“Why did you do that?” Cepheus asked, butting his leg with her head. “Idiot. You _want_ him.”

Jacobi’s voice was tight. “Like I said. Complicated. Imagine what the others would say.”

Another day, Cepheus might have said, _the others don’t need to know._ Now: “Who _cares_ what the others would say? Why should we care? Alana wouldn’t, Columba would only care to get a rise out of us, and Kepler and Andromeda don’t get a say since they _kicked you out of an airlock_ to punish us.”

“Since when do _you_ care about Kepler manipulating you?” he snapped. He kept walking, and she trotted at his heels, tail lashing angrily.

“Since he _hurt_ us, genius!” Cepheus almost yipped, remembering to keep her voice low in the corridors. “ _All_ of us, and for no good reason!”

“So what,” he snarked, “I should jump into bed with the one other guy on the ship - who is occasionally nice to me - because Kepler’s been _mean_? Do we not have _any_ self-respect?”

Cepheus flicked her tail against his legs, tripping him. “What’s your problem with Eiffel and Cassiopeia?” she demanded, “You _like_ them. And now you’re shoving them away?”

Jacobi glared at her from the floor and got up, dusting himself off. “That’s what I do, isn’t it? Trust me, the alternative would be even worse. You _know_ how this mission ends. If it ever ends. I’m doing my job and I’m _not_ getting involved. We were stupid to let it get this far.”

Cepheus returned his glare, “If you weren’t _involved_ you would’ve taken him up on his offer and all four of us would never have spoken of it again. Who are you even trying to protect here, Daniel? Us or them?”

Jacobi laughed. “Who do you _think?_ I’ve never protected you in my life.”

Now, Cepheus _did_ snap. “ _Fine._ Drag us both down the self-loathing spiral about how we aren’t good enough and we can’t protect them. Shove them away. Shove _me_ away. Anything other than letting us be happy for _five minutes,_ right, Daniel?”

“Sounds about right, yeah.” His voice was cold, since they couldn’t shout and risk someone overhearing.

“And what about them? They needed us too. And you just decided we were going to walk away, without even asking me. Like you always do.”

“ _You don’t get a say._ Not about this.” He held her stare, jaw set. “I’m going to bed. You wanna stay here and yell at the corridor some more? Be my guest.”

_Yes._ But she followed him as he dragged them back to the Urania. They’d felt enough Pulling for one day. Even if walking away from Eiffel and Cassiopeia recreated the sensation in miniature. A barb in her side rather than a fish-hook in her chest, but still, it drew her back the harder she tried to pull away. If Daniel felt it, she couldn’t tell.

*

“Jacobi. Cepheus. A _word_.” Kepler’s tone was unreadable. He didn’t _seem_ angry, but it was better not to guess at that until you knew where you currently stood. Both Jacobi and the fox-daemon stood to attention, then followed Kepler and Andromeda out of the Urania’s bridge. Maxwell didn’t look up from her console, but Jacobi didn’t miss Columba’s sharp look in their direction.

“Sir?”

“I’ve noticed the two of you becoming… close with Cassiopeia and Eiffel.” He leaned down, clearly addressing Cepheus alone, “Tell me, my dear, have we done anything to lose your trust?”

Jacobi stepped back, awkwardly, as his daemon met Kepler’s gaze without flinching.

“No, sir,” Cepheus said, voice wavering only slightly. “Of course not.”

“Really.” Unlike her human, Andromeda was making no effort to lean down to the fox’s level. “Because you and that little rabbit seem awfully _snuggly._ ”

“It’s a small station,” Cepheus replied, bending slightly lower before the panther. “No point in making enemies… until it’s necessary.”

“Who says we’re worried about you making _enemies?_ ” Andromeda circled behind Cepheus, forming a barrier between her and Jacobi. “She’s all over you. I can practically smell her.”

“Sir,” Jacobi murmured, locking eyes with the colonel over the two daemons. Kepler said nothing.

“She’s like that with everyone,” Cepheus argued. “What am I supposed to do, fight her off?”

“No one’s suggesting you need to fight her.” Kepler’s tone was conciliatory but Andromeda’s stalk was anything but. “Simply that the two of you seem a little… close.”

“ _Improperly_ close,” Andromeda added, her voice halfway between purr and growl.

Cepheus looked wildly between the two of them. “Sir, I wouldn't-”

“Of course not,” Kepler said, soothing and entirely satisfied. “Just reminding you where your loyalties lie.” He ran a hand between her ears, and for the first time in a long time, Jacobi could _feel_ her trying not to flinch.

“ _Enough_ ,” he said, and pulled her out of his reach. Cepheus dove behind him, almost trembling. “You don’t get to do that. Sir.”

Kepler narrowed his eyes, and Andromeda growled. “Well, this is new.”

“You can’t touch someone else’s daemon. You _know_ that.”

“Neither of you seemed to mind _before._ ” His tone was measured, careful, and icy.

“Maybe we should be talking to Eiffel and Cassiopeia about this,” Andromeda added, thoughtfully. “It seems like they’d have something _interesting_ to say.”

“Oh, screw that,” Jacobi said, glaring at the panther. “This isn’t about them, and it isn’t about _you_ either, Andromeda.” He looked back at Kepler. “You’re questioning _my_ loyalty because I won’t let you touch my daemon? After all these years by your side? You’ve got to be _kidding_ me.”

“Really.” There was no questioning note to Kepler’s voice. “Because something’s changed since we got to this station. So you tell me, Mr Jacobi. If we shouldn’t be questioning your loyalties, what _has_ changed?”

“ _Nothing._ I’ve _never_ liked you touching her! You don’t do it to Columba, or anyone else. You’re taking advantage of her, and me, and I’m sick of it.” Jacobi planted his feet firmly in front of Cepheus. “How would you feel if I laid a hand on Andromeda?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” the panther-daemon snarled.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Jacobi replied. “Because I respect you, and it’s a _violation._ ”

“Have I ever treated either of you with anything less than respect in all the years we’ve worked together?”

“Pressuring Cepheus isn’t respect,” Jacobi pointed out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise Cepheus felt _pressured._ ” He sounded utterly insincere.

Andromeda added: “Maybe Cepheus should have spoken up for herself sooner. Avoided all this… confusion.”

“Oh come on, you know she couldn’t. Look, you… rescued her, and I appreciate that. But enough’s enough. We’re not family,” Jacobi said firmly, hoping he sounded braver than he felt, “and we’re _definitely_ not lovers. You can’t touch her anymore.”

Andromeda was pacing the corridor, grass-green eyes fixed on the smaller daemon as though ready to leap past Jacobi and pounce on her, until Kepler clicked his tongue at her.

“Thank you for communicating that to us, Mr Jacobi. Nice to have that _misunderstanding_ cleared up.” Kepler turned to leave them, then suddenly looked back. “Andromeda.” The panther-daemon followed him reluctantly, but glanced back at Cepheus with clear fury in her eyes. As soon as Kepler was out of eyesight, they slumped against the wall, Cepheus leaning against Jacobi.

“That was…” She shook her head, shuddering. “ _Thank you._ ”

He held her close. “I should have done that a long time ago. I’m sorry, Ceph.”

“It’s my own fault.” She snuggled close to him, as if to rub off Kepler’s fingerprints on her fur. “You _told_ me not to encourage him, and I didn’t listen, and now…” She buried her muzzle against his chest.

“Now we’re in _deep_ shit,” he agreed. “You see what I mean, now? About last night?”

She stiffened in his arms. “You think he’ll go after them? Eiffel? _Cassie?_ ”

“I think it’s almost inevitable,” Jacobi sighed. “Remember, they’re not supposed to go home. It doesn’t matter to him.”

“But…” She didn’t know what she was going to say. She’d half-convinced herself that Eiffel and Cassiopeia were insignificant enough, _harmless_ enough, to merit survival. What kind of threat could they even pose, to Kepler or to Goddard? “What could they even do to threaten Kepler?” she finished, lamely.

Jacobi secured her with an arm as he stood up again. “Try not to think about it,” he suggested, saying it to himself as much as Cepheus. On Earth, Eiffel was already dead. “We’re going home; you, me, Maxwell and Columba. Once the job’s done. That’s what we’ve gotta focus on. That, and the 96 hours we have to spend on that module,” he sighed, remembering their next assignment.

Cepheus echoed his sigh. There was no point saying anything else. No point mentioning that it would have been nice to have _something_ here, however little time they got to have it for. She leant her head against his shoulder, and tried not to think as they re-entered the bridge. She shook her head at Columba as he snapped up to look at her.

“Don’t ask,” Jacobi said to Maxwell at the same time, sounding exhausted. He flopped down on the seat next to hers. “Let’s get to work.”

*

“I don’t want to hear it,” Kepler said, as soon as they were alone and before Andromeda had the chance to speak.

“But-”

“But nothing.” He sat down on the bunk, glaring daggers. “I said. I don’t want to hear it.”

“They were _defying_ us.” She stalked back and forth in front of him, tail lashing.

“I’m aware of that,” Kepler replied, through gritted teeth. His loyal right arm. There was something… not fear, exactly, but something in the back of his mind worrying at him. A foreshadowing of regret. The idea of having to train someone new seemed incredibly inconvenient.

“And you just _let_ them? That little-”

“Do you actually think they’d side with that motley crew of future victims over us? Try and pull yourself together.”

She snorted, “You know this isn’t about sides. It’s about _power._ And we’re losing it!” _To a motley crew of outcasts and a fucking rabbit._

Kepler raised an eyebrow. “Because Jacobi’s been distracted by a pretty face? Don’t be so dramatic. He was never a perfect soldier.”

“Because he’s _arguing with us._ Over Cepheus! It’s not like either of them ever cared before.”

“I suppose we should let the Goddard therapists know they’re good at their jobs,” Kepler pointed out, still sounding calm and amused.

“Oh yes, this is _clearly_ a result of those years of therapy and not at all of them associating with those…” She couldn’t seem to find a word to express her disgust, only shook her head angrily.

“Are you jealous, Andromeda? I think you’ve forgotten that Jacobi _can’t_ develop feelings for someone. He’s never had the presence of mind or strength of character, and _Eiffel_ of all people isn’t going to change that. Calm down.”

She glared up at him. “You’re going to pretend you’re not worried about that changing? To _me?_ ”

“I don’t need to pretend,” he said, laying a hand between her ears and rubbing gently. “You can do the worrying. I’ll be practical.”

She growled, but didn’t move away. “ _Practical_ would be reminding those two who’s in charge, before they get any more ideas.”

“We will,” Kepler promised, soothing. “But not while he’s got a head full of steam. Wait until after they go out on the module. Let him come back with his tail between his legs.”

Andromeda sighed. “I’d rather remind them _now,_ but if you’re that convinced…”

“He’s _expecting_ it now. You know I’m right.”

“You _always_ say that.” She collapsed to the floor, loudly and grumpily. “I suppose we’ll see. After the module.”

*

Eiffel woke to the sound of claws scratching at his door.

Cassiopeia opened one eye. “Make them go away?”

“That’s… not Rigel.” Eiffel woke up properly, flinging the blankets away from him. It took him a few more seconds to cross the small pod room and open the door.

Cepheus stood outside, and although Eiffel couldn’t have known it, her expression was the exact same one she wore the day she travelled to find Kepler six years ago. A few paces behind her, Jacobi stood, clutching his heart and gasping, looking utterly betrayed.

“ _Help,_ ” she said.

Eiffel looked at the two of them. “Cepheus-” Cassiopeia, on his shoulder, nipped his ear, and he stepped aside, letting the fox-daemon enter and then catching Jacobi as he stumbled after her. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t listen to her.” Jacobi looked _terrible,_ exhausted and pale. A horrible, crazed smile was on his face. “She’s not my daemon _._ ”

“Yes I am!” Cepheus snapped, and looked back at Eiffel. “Please, I don’t know what to do, he feels _so_ wrong and he won’t listen to me, he hasn’t slept since we got back - “

“ _Oh._ ” Everything suddenly made a horrible kind of sense. “Right.” He turned to Jacobi. “Sit down.”

As if in a trance, Jacobi obeyed.

“He wouldn’t give in when I tried to go to Maxwell,” Cepheus explained. “But I got him to come here. Just.”

Cassiopeia bounced down Eiffel’s shoulder in sections, landing next to the fox-daemon and anxiously checking her over.

“So you brought him to me.” Eiffel closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples. There was no coffee, no chance for a cigarette, and he was going to have to have this conversation anyway. He turned to Jacobi, “You know Ceph didn’t leave the pod, right? We’d have seen if anything happened to her. Cass would have seen, right, Cass?” The rabbit-daemon didn’t answer, distracted by her attentions - was she _fussing?_ \- to Cepheus. “The girls are right here, and nothing’s happened to either of them, so you _can’t_ be the outsider.”

“You don’t know that,” Jacobi whispered. His voice was hoarse. “You’re saying it to make me feel better, like _she_ is, but you don’t _know._ You don’t know that I’m the real Daniel Jacobi, because _I_ don’t even know.”

“I know you. I know you’re here, and I know you’re _real,_ ” Eiffel said, firmly. “Would Cassie be fussing over a fake Ceph? Look at them.” He nodded at the daemons, circling each other on the floor.

Jacobi shook his head, and wouldn’t look. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy, and trained on his shaking hands. “I listened to her _die_ ,” he said.

Cepheus lifted her head. “Daniel…” she said softly, but couldn’t find the words to say anything more.

“We all heard the imposter die. And it hurt, and it was scary, but we have the real you, and the real Ceph.” He took hold of his shoulders. “You’re _real._ You’re scared, and sleep-deprived to hell, but you’re _you._ ”

“He thought he was real too,” Daniel argued. “And I didn’t let them in. And I pulled a _gun_ on you. How could I do that? And now I’ve made her sick again,” he laughed, a horrible, high-pitched sound. “Maybe even the ‘imposter’ could do a better job!”

“You know that’s not true, right? You’re doing the best you can. It’s been a shitty few days, but you’re _trying._ You’re both still here.” Cassiopeia was whispering something to Cepheus, but she looked up and nodded encouragingly.

“I…” Jacobi looked at the hands on his shoulders, and then back to Eiffel, as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Why did she bring me _here_?”

“You’d do better asking Ceph that than me,” Eiffel replied, looking down at the fox-daemon.

“Because you’re an idiot?” Cassiopeia muttered, and received twin nudges from Eiffel’s foot and Cepheus’s lashing tail.

“Because you love him,” Cepheus said softly.

_Oh._ Eiffel and Cassiopeia’s expressions were matched in wide-eyed confusion.

Cassiopeia recovered first. “You- he-” She was silenced when the two humans suddenly started kissing.

“I didn’t know I did,” Daniel murmured a moment later, his forehead pressed to Eiffel’s. “She knew, though. Since the start.”

Cepheus rolled her eyes. “Of course I did. This is why you should _listen_ to me.”

Cassiopeia shushed her, “And you say _I_ can ruin a moment. You can say I told you so later.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jacobi said, already drawing back. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “God, what a mess.”

“You can say that again.” Eiffel collapsed next to him with a sigh. There was a silence, then: “What do we do now?”

“I should go,” Jacobi said roughly. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

Eiffel snorted, “And what’ll you do then? Continue giving yourself an identity crisis over your doppelganger and failing to sleep?”

“Better than involving you in this.”

“Little late to be worried about that, don’t you think?” Cassiopeia said, uncharacteristically softly.

Cepheus padded over, leaping onto the bed to sit beside Jacobi. “Stay,” she said. “This is the calmest you’ve been all day. He wants you to stay, right, Cassie?”

“Well, _duh,_ ” Cassie nudged Eiffel until he too lifted her up onto the bed. “We’re not exactly going to let you go off alone after this.”

“She has a point,” Eiffel agreed. “You need to _sleep,_ Daniel.”

“Could _you_ sleep, after that? After hearing yourself die? I’ve _tried,_ I just wake up screaming.” He didn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed about admitting it. He hadn’t slept in days, his daemon had just told a man he loved him and gotten no real reply, and he might be an alien clone. Admitting to nightmares were the least of his worries.

Eiffel wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Stay, then. You don’t have to sleep. But you don’t have to be alone either.”

Jacobi melted into the touch. “Don’t tell anyone how badly I freaked out, okay? Promise me.” He knew Eiffel would know who he really meant by ‘anyone’.

“It’ll be our secret,” Eiffel assured him.

Cepheus nudged Cassie.  “As if I’d tell anyone,” she scoffed, and snuggled closer to the fox’s side.

While Jacobi was quiet and pliable, getting used to the warm feeling of being held at the same time that his daemon was, Eiffel took the opportunity to gently pull him down onto the bed in a more comfortable position.

“Thank you,” Jacobi said, so quietly that Eiffel almost didn’t hear.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied, equally softly, tracing circles on Jacobi’s back.

“I’m being nice, don’t be an ass,” Jacobi replied, sounding almost life his normal self again. “Forget what Ceph said. I’ll sleep, I’ll try at least.”

“You can sleep, or we can talk about it?” He wasn’t entirely sure he _wanted_ to talk about it, but it needed to be said. He didn’t envy Cassie for having to stage her own half of this conversation in the morning.

“I don’t want to hear myself talk any more.” His heavy eyelids fell closed. _Whoever I am now, I’ve heard that voice enough._

“Then you don’t have to. Just rest.” He hummed softly, continuing to trace circles on his skin. “We’re all here. You and me and Cassie and Ceph. We’re all together. We’re all _safe._ And when you wake up, we’ll all still be here.”

Cassie could hear the humans slipping into sleep, as their breathing evened out, as they curled softly around each other, until she was the last one awake, snuggled close to Cepheus.

“Ceph,” she murmured, and received no response. “You know I love you, right?” No reply. It didn’t matter. She curled close to the other daemon and joined her in sleep.

*

Jacobi awoke, and that was his first surprise, because it meant that he had actually _slept_. The second surprise was that he was in a bed far smaller and far more crowded than his own, and that he _definitely_ wasn’t back in the crew quarters of the Urania. He half-sat up, straining his eyes in the darkened room to try and work out where he was and why he felt so _calm_ about not knowing.

“Go back to sleep and stop _moving_ ,” a small voice demanded sleepily from the end of the bed.

“ _Cassiopeia?_ ” The past few days came back in fragments, his memory of the previous evening vivid as a nightmare and hazy as a dream. He knew where he was and how he’d gotten there, but he couldn’t make sense of the sequence of events.

“No, genius, it’s Echo doing an excellent impersonation.” She gave a _very_ Cassiopeia huff, and Eiffel muttered in his sleep for her to be quiet. “We still have an hour before we need to be awake.” She snuggled back up to Cepheus, who gave a quiet groan.

Still not entirely sure of himself, Jacobi lay back down in the bed, his back to Eiffel. An arm snaked around his waist. “You should listen to Cass,” the other man murmured. “She won’t shut up if you don’t.”

“I can hear you!” the rabbit-daemon squeaked from the end of the bed.

“... Morning,” Jacobi murmured, having found nothing less awkward to say. At least he didn’t have to look at him.

“Good morning to you too.” Underneath the sleepiness, Eiffel sounded amused. “Did you sleep okay, or is Ceph going to be very disappointed in me?”

“I slept fine.” He’d _slept_ , and that was the miracle.

“Thought so.” He was _definitely_ amused. “They didn’t build these quarters with restless sleepers in mind.”

Jacobi moved away immediately, conscious of the small space. “I’ll get out of your hair -”

“Hey, it’s okay. I asked you to stay.” He _had,_ and that was the part of the previous night that made no sense at all. Well, one of them. If he were to list them, it would take a _long_ time. Eiffel continued: “Go back to sleep for a bit. We don’t need to think about this yet.”

“I need to get back to my own room before someone sees,” Jacobi argued, but he leaned back in anyway.

“We have plenty of time, and nobody’s going to notice,” Eiffel soothed. If Jacobi would just _go back to sleep,_ they could keep not-thinking about the previous night, and its… complications. Complications in the form of a fox-shaped daemon looking up at him with wide golden eyes. _You love him._ Nope, not thinking about that.

“Sorry,” Jacobi said, after a pause. “I’ve never been good at… this bit.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” _Besides, you were doing fine until we started_ thinking.

Jacobi had never been able to keep his mouth shut. He twisted in Eiffel’s arms, so he could actually look at him. “About what Ceph said -”

“You don’t have to answer for her,” Eiffel said, too quickly, “You were both pretty out of it.” And he was pretty sure Cassie had said _something_ he couldn’t quite recall hearing. Not that he wanted to.

“That’s not an excuse. It - it clearly made you uncomfortable. And besides. It wasn’t true.” He wished he hadn’t turned around, now. He tried to keep his face neutral.

Eiffel blinked. “We weren’t - we weren’t _uncomfortable._ Not that it matters. We’re all fine now.” _It wasn’t true._ It should have been a relief. It didn’t feel like one.

Jacobi sighed. “No, we’re - it’s for your sake as well as mine. Best to pretend she never said anything.”

“That… makes sense.” Of course it made sense. Logically, anyway. “But… nobody will know but us anyway.” Nobody _could_ know.

_“_ You’re an idiot if you can think you can keep something on this ship a secret,” Jacobi scoffed.

“I didn’t say that we should make a habit of it. Just that there’s no point pretending it never happened when it’s only the four of us.” Particularly if their daemons decided to object.

“Nothing’s happened,” Jacobi said, defensively shuffling backwards. “I had a minor breakdown and fell asleep in your bed. Done the same with Maxwell a dozen times, and _we’re_ certainly not a thing.”

“...That’s not exactly the same,” Eiffel pointed out. “She’s the closest thing you have to family. Cass and I… aren’t.” He shrugged, as though that should finish the thought adequately. _We’re not family. We’re not_ good _at family. Or anything else._

“ _No,_ I meant - God, what do you _want_ from me?”

“I don’t know, what do _you_ want?” _You’re the one who showed up here in the middle of the night looking like a ghost. Why do you think_ I _have the answers?_ “You know we can’t just go back to - whatever we were before this. Not _convincingly._ ”

“You’re the one that kissed _me,_ ” Jacobi pointed out. “I was sleep-deprived and going crazy, I didn’t have time to think.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” Eiffel sat up, folding his arms. “And you _know_ that’s not how it happened.”

_That’s what I could say if this gets out._ “I’m not sure you understand the danger we’re in here. Andromeda nearly _attacked_ Cepheus the other day because she smelled like rabbit.”

“ _What?_ ” That made less than no sense, and he instinctively rested a hand on Jacobi’s shoulder, “Are the two of you OK?” He gently ran his hand along his arm, as though checking for injuries.

“Eiffel!” He whispered furiously. “At any point in the last week, have I seemed _OK_ to you? He already suspects, and because I somehow finally found the fucking nerve to stop him touching Ceph, he’s just _looking_ for an excuse to do something drastic. _Also, I might be an alien. No, I’m not OK._ ”

Eiffel waited for him to finish, then sighed, and rolled back onto his side, his arm wrapping around Jacobi again almost of its own accord. “And _this_ is why we can’t pretend this didn’t happen. You can’t - _nobody_ can be as on edge as you are at any given moment without snapping. If you and Ceph can’t stop pretending with someone at some point, you’re going to hit breaking point in a way _everyone_ will notice. Avoid Andromeda, or claim that Cass won’t leave Ceph alone. But you can’t pretend this away too.” Eiffel had far too much experience with pretending problems away to take it as an option here.

“Or I come clean and stay away from _you,_ ” Jacobi pointed out.

“Because it’s worked so well every other time you’ve tried to avoid us?” _And I’m not sure either of our daemons would agree to it._ “Besides, how is ‘coming clean’ going to stop Kepler killing us over this? He’s not exactly permissive about sharing his toys.”

“Why should I pick you over him?” Jacobi countered. “Six years of partnership versus… what, exactly?”

“ _This._ Us. Being _happy._ ” Eiffel shut his eyes, half-exasperated. “You know we love you, right?”

Jacobi stared at him in disbelief. “No! Because _we_ said it and _you_ didn’t say anything!”

“ _Ceph_ said it and _you_ didn’t say anything! And then you said it wasn’t true, and I didn’t want to push you because you hadn’t slept in three days!”

“ _I was obviously lying to save face, Eiffel_ \- “

“Oh, shut _up!_ ” He kissed him again, this time fiercely rather than softly. When he drew back, he said, breathlessly: “We love you. Happy now?”

“ _No_ ,” Jacobi said, still on the runaway train of aggression, “I mean - yes, of course I’m happy about that, just not like, _generally,_ in my life - “ he stopped, and buried his face in his hands. “Shut up, Daniel.”

“Probably for the best,” Eiffel agreed.

“I love you,” Jacobi said, into his hands. “God, this is so inconvenient.”

“You’re telling me.” Eiffel flopped back against the pillows. “You know you I blame for this? _You two._ ” He waved a hand at the daemons, curled together at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, are you two finally done?” Cepheus asked dryly.

“Shut it,” Jacobi retorted, still curled up in himself. “He’s right, this is your fault.”

“How is it _my_ fault?” Cassiopeia piped up, “I haven’t said _anything._ In fact, I distinctly remember telling you to go back to sleep.”

“Not all you said last night,” Cepheus said, smirking slightly.

“ _You were asleep!_ ” Cassie’s squeak almost went beyond the pitch of human hearing. “You can’t prove anything!”

“Mm-hmm. Love you too, bunny.”

“ _Ceph!_ ” There was a slight pause, then: “Ugh, fine. Love you. Can we stop with the confessions now?”

“ _Please,_ ” Jacobi interjected.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way…” Eiffel sat up and stretched. “It’s a beautiful morning to be orbiting a hideous death star filled with aliens. Not that _you’ve_ left us much time to appreciate it.” He poked Jacobi in the ribs.

“Fuck. You know, if you’d just been _clear_ with me last night, we could have woken up _very_ differently. I’m _great_ at waking people up,” Jacobi pointed out mutinously.

“Really? You’ll have to show me some time,” Eiffel winked, then elbowed him again. “You do realise nobody can move till you do?”

“Five minutes,” Jacobi grumbled and pulled him back down. “I get at least five minutes to appreciate this without one of us freaking out. Then I’ll go do my stupid job.”

“Good compromise,” Eiffel agreed, not drawing away. Five more minutes of not thinking about any potential consequences to this sounded _perfect._ For a little while, at least, they could stay in this bubble of safety. For a little while, they _could_ be happy.

 


End file.
